


yellow light

by justcourbeau, uneventfulhouses



Series: where we intersect [2]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Choking, Established Relationship, Kink Negotiation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:15:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23381536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justcourbeau/pseuds/justcourbeau, https://archiveofourown.org/users/uneventfulhouses/pseuds/uneventfulhouses
Summary: “How come you never ask for anything, hmm?” Ryan wonders aloud.“I do too ask for things,” Shane huffs, and Ryan delights in the way his voice stutters, attention torn between Ryan’s words and Ryan’s fingers. “Did I not just ask you to fuck me?”Or, Ryan realizes Shane never seems to ask for anything. He sets out to fix that.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Series: where we intersect [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673467
Comments: 46
Kudos: 317





	yellow light

**Author's Note:**

> installment two.
> 
> forgive us father for we have sinned.
> 
> another thank you to jess for betaing and endless support.
> 
> highly recommend reading part one first so this makes sense.

Turns out, all it had really taken to kick things off had been Ryan’s confession. From then on, Shane only really stops them when he wants Ryan to _talk_ to him. Which, for the record, Ryan really enjoys. It changes Shane’s breathing, makes him flush, and makes him _shiver_. As it happens, Ryan really likes making Shane shiver. 

It becomes easy for Ryan to ask for the things he wants, the things he likes. To tell Shane where he wants to be touched, how he wants to be kissed, how hard he wants to be fucked. Shane’s compliant with it all.

Instead of spending their nights making out with a stopping point always close at hand, like they did before, their nights start ending with the sweaty collision of their bodies. They try new things, touch new places, and Ryan learns Shane’s body, knows it as well as his own in no time at all. 

-:-

It’s half-two on a Saturday night, and Ryan has Shane pushed up against the wall outside Shane’s building. Shane’s skin is hot under his hands where he’s set them against Shane’s waist, leaning up on the balls of his feet to catch Shane’s mouth in a hot, sloppy kiss. 

When Ryan wedges a thigh between Shane’s, Shane groans into his mouth, hands gripping Ryan’s ass through the pockets of his jeans. 

Ryan huffs when he pulls back, licking the taste of Shane’s kiss away from his lips. He looks up at Shane, at the flush of his cheeks and the shiny glimmer of his eyes behind the clear frame of his glasses. His hair falls over his forehead and Ryan uses his fingers to comb it back. 

“Come on, big guy, take me inside and make sweet, sweet love to me.” 

Shane scoffs. “Don’t be gross, Ryan.”

Ryan grins, taking Shane’s hands and tugging them so Shane will follow. He does, slinging an arm around Ryan’s shoulders, leaning down to press a messy, wet kiss to his cheek, one Ryan shies away from with a squeaky noise. 

It takes them forever to actually get up to Shane’s apartment between pressing each other against the walls of the lobby and Ryan mashing all the buttons inside the elevator. Considering the hour, they aren’t interrupted while they make out, shifting desperately against each other in the corner as the doors open with a ding at each level.

They’re giggling by the time they fall through Shane’s front door. They manage not to trip over Obi on their way to the bedroom, stepping out of shoes and jeans, kissing over chests and shoulders as flannel and t-shirts come off. 

“Talk to me, Ryan,” Shane breathes against his throat, hand sliding down the tense flesh of Ryan’s stomach. “What do you want?” 

“Fuck me,” Ryan says easily, marvelling at how it drops from his mouth without a second thought. 

Shane makes a noise, something crossed between a sigh and a groan, pressing their hips together. Ryan whines, fingers digging low, right at the base of Shane’s spine. Ryan hitches his leg around Shane’s thigh, keeping him close as they rut against each other, the fabric of their underwear catching against wet, hard flesh. Ryan curses, and Shane bites at his collarbone, at the meat of his shoulder.

“Shane, _Shane_ , come on, please, I want you inside me,” Ryan pants, hand dipping over Shane’s ass to keep him close, betraying his words. 

Shane pulls back, looking down at him, darkened eyes in the dim light of the hallway. 

“Go get on the bed. I’ll be right there.” 

Shane rescinds his body, and Ryan lets himself look, take his fill of Shane’s flushed shoulders, how the blush drips over his chest, splotchy; Ryan’s eyes snag on the marks at the base of his neck, in the hollow of his throat, a little faded from a few nights before. He’ll have to fix that. He’ll have to make some more, so he can enjoy the way Shane’s breath goes ragged when he does. He can see the hard line of Shane’s cock in his underwear, and Ryan licks his lips. He meets Shane’s eyes before Shane turns to leave towards the living room. Ryan slinks out of his briefs and makes his way to Shane’s bedroom. 

In the dark, Ryan turns the bedside lamp on and digs into the top drawer for the bottle of lube Shane keeps there. His eyes find the box of condoms, but Ryan wants Shane to make a mess out of him tonight. 

Ryan wants to really feel it. 

Shane hasn’t come back yet, so Ryan settles against the sheets of the unmade bed, wets his fingers and sets them against himself, slipping in two without much preamble. He makes quick work of it, shaky when he strokes himself off just to relieve the pressure in his belly, to ease the want, as his toes curl into the sheets. 

Ryan’s eyes fall closed and he knows Shane will join him in a moment, but he imagines it, how it’ll feel when Shane is heavy on top of him, rocking his hips into Ryan in the way the Shane knows he likes, slow, hard, long and deep, until Ryan’s legs are shaking and his hips ache from how wide Shane spreads his thighs. 

When he opens his eyes, he finds Shane watching him from the doorway, underwear gone, his hand curled around his cock, stroking slowly. He looks good, sexy, and it makes Ryan shiver underneath such a heavy gaze.

“Hi,” Ryan says, feeling heat pool in his cheeks, his stomach, like fire in his veins. 

“Hey,” Shane says, so easy, and Ryan’s heart throbs. Ryan doesn’t stop fingering himself, and Shane continues to stroke, keeping his eyes on Ryan.

“Come finish for me?” Ryan asks, just as he gives himself a third finger. “Please?” 

Shane pushes off the doorway, walking towards him until he’s kneeling onto the bed, shuffling close. He presses his fingertips where Ryan’s are already in so deep, and three is never really enough, so when Shane slips one of his own along with Ryan’s, his back arches off the bed, sucking in a deep breath. 

“Oh—oh my god,” Ryan groans, reaching with his other hand for Shane, managing to find his arm, tugging him by the elbow. 

“Hang on, Ryan, Jesus—” 

“I want you—” Ryan shuts his eyes tight when Shane curls his finger, brushing against where Ryan had been avoiding. Ryan’s dick twitches against where it lays on his belly, leaking steadily. 

“You’re barely there, Ry—”

“I can take it.” 

When he looks up at Shane, Shane’s looking at him, eyes intense, licking his lips. He pulls his hands away from Ryan, settling them on either side of Ryan’s head against the mattress, hovering over him. Ryan slips his fingers out from inside of himself, reaching to curl them instead around Shane’s cock, pressing his thumb against the wet, flushed head. Shane moans, head dipping, forehead resting against Ryan’s. 

“This isn’t gonna be the quote-unquote ‘sweet, sweet love’ you wanted earlier,” Shane warns.

“I don’t care,” Ryan says as he presses his other hand against the bottom of Shane’s spine, tugging him down. “Just wanna feel you come inside me. Can you do that for me?” 

“ _Fuck_ , Ryan, what’s gotten into you?” Shane lifts his head, eyes finding Ryan’s. 

“I don’t know, I just want you real bad. Can’t I just want you to fuck me? Got a whole goddamn inquisition here.” 

Shane grins, and Ryan sets the flushed, wet tip of Shane’s cock against his rim, and he digs his fingers into Shane’s flesh, right above his ass. 

Slowly, Shane sinks down inside of him. 

“ _Oh_ ,” Ryan whispers, and Shane lowers himself onto forearms, dipping his face into the curve of Ryan’s throat, panting against his flesh. “Oh, _Shane_.” 

They lay there for an unsteady collection of moments. Ryan threads his fingers through Shane’s hair as Shane breathes against his collar, sucking marks into his skin. Ryan’s head is swimming; Shane fills him up so well, so deep, so thick, as he stretches Ryan to the point where it’s almost too much. 

Breathing harsh, Ryan shifts his hips, his cock catching against Shane’s belly, making him hot, making him moan. 

“Come on, Shane,” Ryan murmurs. “Give it to me.” 

Shane rolls his hips into Ryan’s, pulling out only to snap his hips forward. Ryan arches underneath Shane, pressing his hands against Shane’s shoulders. He fucks the breath right out of Ryan, finding a rhythm that’s unprecedented, relentless, and makes Ryan chant his name into the quiet of the room. 

Ryan can see the furrow of Shane’s brow, the part of his lips as he breathes. Ryan grips his fingers into Shane’s shoulders, enjoying the flex of Shane’s muscles as he trembles, working his hips. 

“Ryan, Ryan, _Ryan_.” The sound of Shane’s voice raw, rough, barely heard over Ryan’s own heavy breathing. 

Ryan doesn’t realize, not until he’s casually asking Shane to go slower, longer with his thrusts, that Shane hardly ever asks for anything himself, despite the fact that the beginning of their relationship centred heavily around Shane waiting patiently for Ryan to say what he wanted out loud, without shame. 

It’s not the time or the place to bring up his revelation, considering the impending orgasms for both parties involved, but Ryan files it away for later.

“Harder,” Ryan whispers and Shane lifts himself off of Ryan, just enough so he can gain the leverage to fuck in with purpose. He sits back, the heels of Ryan’s feet digging into the bottom of Shane’s spine as he fucks Ryan with calculated thrusts that push Ryan incrementally up the bed. “ _Uh, uh_ , right there,” Ryan breathes, as he reaches above his head, pressing his palms against the headboard, keeping himself in place so he can feel the steady smack of Shane’s skin on his. Shane spreads Ryan’s thighs open with heavy hands, fingers gripping flesh as he watches Ryan with dark eyes. 

“Come kiss me,” Ryan says. He curls his legs tight around Shane’s hips as he presses into Ryan deeper. He hovers over Ryan as he leans down for a kiss, caging Ryan in with his forearms. Ryan gasps into Shane’s mouth when Shane fucks just right, enough for Ryan to tremble, thighs shaking. “Oh, my _God_.” Ryan scrapes his nails down Shane’s back, arching underneath him, grinding against him. He feels like he’s wound so tight he could burst open and and bleed bliss all over the bedsheets. 

“I’m gonna come,” Shane says into the open part of Ryan’s mouth, reaching between them to touch Ryan, curling his fingers around his cock to stroke him, and with Shane shoved so deep inside of him, Ryan feels his climax strike him hard. 

It’s tense in his balls, hot, and his heart is beating so fast. It nearly takes him by surprise, when Shane twists his grip at the head; Ryan’s fingers grapple over Shane’s back when he bows in close, shutting his eyes tight as he comes, hot and messy between them, his knees pressing into Shane’s ribs. His lungs feel tight in his chest as he comes down from the weightless high of it. He’s panting, his fingers skating over Shane’s sweaty skin as he sets his hands against Shane’s chest, and lets his legs fall open, lets himself become pliant and soft-bodied for Shane. 

When Shane comes, it’s wondrous, jaw clenched hard, eyes shut tight, sweat on his brow as he throws his head back, groaning loud and unashamed. He fucks in hard, stuttering and unmeasured, and Ryan feels Shane’s come inside of him, wet, noisy, and _oh_ so satisfying. Ryan watches with wild fascination; he thinks he might not ever be over the way Shane comes with every part of his being, the way his shoulders shake and his hips jolt and his chest heaves with heavy, aching breaths. Ryan touches his palm to Shane’s stomach. 

Shane dips his head, just to kiss Ryan again, and Ryan curves an arm around Shane’s waist to keep him, to leave him inside because he’s not ready to let the feeling go. Shane’s weight is welcome when he collapses, pressing Ryan into the bed, and Ryan lets Shane kiss him. It’s almost sweet, this kiss, when Shane smiles into it, kissing his cheeks and chin and jaw. 

Eventually, Shane rolls off of him, and Ryan closes his eyes, humming when he feels Shane pulling him close. 

They’re sticky and sweaty, half-drunk and exhausted, but God, Ryan is content to lay here in it all and deal with it in the morning. 

It seems like Shane is, too, until Shane disappears from his side, and Ryan is surprised at the feeling of something damp against his belly moments later. He opens his eyes to find Shane taking his time as he wipes him down, gentle hands cleaning up. 

“Turn over for me, babe,” Shane says softly, and Ryan does, shoving his face into the nearest pillow as Shane finishes up. Ryan lays there, and moments later, the room goes dark and Shane nestles in close next to him. 

The thought settles in the back of his mind, one he won’t let himself forget. Ryan forces himself to remember to ask Shane what he wants from him, from _this_. Shane curls an arm around his waist, burrows his face into the flesh of Ryan’s shoulder, underneath the blankets. 

-:-

The thought follows Ryan around like a dark, horny little storm cloud. He constantly thinks about how he wants to ask Shane to be just as open with him. Ryan’s forgone being shy—there’s nothing left for him to be shy about considering all the places Shane’s mouth has been on his body. 

It isn’t that what they’re doing is unsatisfactory; Ryan knows when they finish, Shane gets that sated gleam in his amber eyes, limbs gone lazily, body soft and long against the bedsheets (or couch cushions). Ryan knows what they do is good, it’s fun. But Ryan can’t help but wonder if something is missing for _Shane_. 

Shane isn’t one to say much. He doesn’t instruct Ryan, doesn’t suggest. Just goes with Ryan’s flow. But Ryan _wants_ him to. Ryan wants Shane to tell Ryan how to lay, where to put his legs, how to use his hands. 

It’s times like these where Shane’s blasé attitude just does _not_ come in handy. 

-:-

It’s almost ten on a Sunday night; Ryan’s been working steadily on his laptop for the last few hours, trying to beat the low battery indicator. His charger is in his bag, and he’s not quite ready to get up for it yet. 

As it happens, he hears Shane shuffling around somewhere behind him, in the kitchen maybe. Shane walks into the living room then, and Ryan’s attention is divided, partially aware of Shane, but still typing furiously away on his script. Shane, though, steals the entirety of his attention when he leans over the arm of the couch, pressing his lips against Ryan’s cheek. Ryan hums, leaning into the gesture, but doesn’t quite turn to entertain Shane just yet. 

It isn’t until Ryan hears Shane’s soft whisper of, “Come to bed, Ry,” that Ryan realizes he’s done with work for the night. 

Ryan turns to look at Shane then, catching the warm brown of his eyes and the inviting curve of his smile. 

“Yeah?” Ryan asks, and Shane grins at him, slinking away in the direction of the bedroom. Ryan closes the lid of his laptop and abandons it on the coffee table to follow, leaving the lights on in the living room without a second thought. 

In the bedroom, Shane’s already lying in bed illuminated only the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Ryan shuts the door behind him, stripping from his t-shirt as he makes his way to the edge of the mattress. Shane reaches for his hand, lacing their fingers, and tugs. Kneeling down, Ryan hovers over Shane and leans in to kiss him, a gentle press and pull of their lips as Shane’s hands touch over his chest, his stomach, settling on Ryan’s hips and bringing Ryan down to sit astride his thighs.

When the kiss deepens, it’s with the hot touch of Shane’s tongue, and Ryan’s eager for it. He drags his hips over Shane’s, listening to his soft hiss. 

“Take this off,” Ryan says against Shane’s mouth, tugging at Shane’s t-shirt, as he skates his fingertips over Shane’s belly, fingers dipping underneath the elastic of Shane’s sweatpants. 

Shane strips off his shirt, tossing it over the edge of the bed. Shane gets a hand on the back of Ryan’s neck, threading his fingers through Ryan’s hair, and Ryan leans down willingly, licking over Shane’s bottom lip before biting. Shane groans, and it rumbles in his chest, against the press of Ryan’s palm where it’s settled against Shane’s sternum. 

“What do you feel like?” Ryan asks. “Want me to ride you?” Ryan punctuates his question with a drag of his hips, his ass grinding over the hard line of Shane’s cock. 

“Actually, thought you could fuck me, if you want,” Shane mumurs, his tone casual. 

“I do want,” Ryan says, pulling up to sit straight, looking down at Shane. He’s already got a pretty flush on his cheeks, lips wet from Ryan’s kisses. Ryan’s chest fills with that familiar warmth, and he touches his hand to Shane’s face, thumb smoothing slowly over Shane’s cheek. Shane takes his hand, kissing Ryan’s palm, and Ryan smiles.

With that, Ryan reaches for the bedside drawer and digs for a second until he finds the lube. Shane’s fingers skate over the sides of Ryan’s waist, and Ryan shivers from the heat of Shane’s hands, how they drift down, over Ryan’s thighs. 

Ryan slips off Shane’s body, tugs down the waist of Shane’s pants, taking his underwear with them, leaving Shane naked against the bedsheets. He always looks so good like this, body long, flushed, looking up at Ryan with one of those expressions that still takes Ryan by surprise, something like fondness and adoration, a look that makes Ryan feel like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

“Turn over for me?” Ryan asks gently, and Shane does, closer to Ryan so his knees are pressed against Shane’s ribs. Ryan resettles himself between the spread of Shane’s legs, leaving the lube on the bed just for a moment. He undresses himself the rest of the way, throwing his jeans and underwear onto the floor behind him.

For a moment, Ryan just touches Shane, hands over his shoulders, digging his fingers into Shane’s flesh just to listen to his low, satisfied groan. He presses his thumbs along the line of Shane’s spine, dragging down and then back up, admiring the gentle strength of Shane’s back.

“Ryan,” Shane breathes, “get on with it.” 

Ryan huffs a breath. “Alright, alright.” He picks up the bottle, snapping open the cap and wetting his fingers, taking a moment to let the lube warm up just a little before using his left hand to spread Shane open, thumbing over him, then sliding his middle finger inside. Shane inhales, sharp and short. Ryan can see Shane’s skin flush, dripping over his shoulder blades. Ryan rubs his palm over the bottom of Shane’s spine, slowly fingering Shane before slipping in a second. Shane groans. 

“Okay?” 

Shane nods into the pillow. “Yeah, yes,” he says. There’s a curl of arousal that burns hot in Ryan’s belly, and as much as he wants to touch himself, he focuses his attention on Shane, on stretching him open and listening to his quiet breaths, the way he moans and pushes back on Ryan’s fingers like he’s begging for it. 

Seeing Shane like this is always a marvel for Ryan, if only because it’s not often that Ryan gets to tear Shane apart, not like Shane does with Ryan so easily. Shane had spent so much time easing Ryan into comfort, allowing Ryan to familiarize himself with shameless sexual requests; it had dawned on Ryan that Shane rarely, if ever, asks Ryan for something that caters to his own sexual pleasure.

“How come you never ask for anything, hmm?” Ryan wonders aloud.

“I do too ask for things,” Shane huffs, and Ryan delights in the way his voice stutters, attention torn between Ryan’s words and Ryan’s fingers. “Did I not just ask you to fuck me?”

“Not really. Not in the same way you made me ask for what I wanted in the beginning,” Ryan murmurs into the nape of Shane’s neck. “I’ll do anything you want, Shane, you just gotta ask.”

Shane doesn’t answer, and Ryan pulls off to run a hand down Shane’s back.

“There’s gotta be _something_ you want,” Ryan prompts before emphasizing the notion by curling his fingers again.

This is new, watching Shane flounder in the wake of Ryan’s words, as if he hasn’t really thought about what he wants in a long time. Ryan immediately feels the need to correct that tonight, but from the careful pause in his answers, it seems like Shane maybe needs a minute—or a day, a week—to think about it without Ryan’s eyes watching every thought cross his mind, so he dips his head again and latches onto Shane’s shoulder. 

Barely a minute later, Shane says something that sounds a lot like, “I want you to choke me,” which makes Ryan grin into his skin because it comes out so tentative, so unlike Shane’s usual blunt, steadfast demeanour in the face of anything, including sex-related things.

“You’re gonna have to speak up, dude.” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Ryan.” Shane’s voice is muffled on account of his face being shoved into the crook of his elbow, but Ryan can hear the fond exasperation as clear as if he was using a megaphone.

“I’m not trying to be funny. I just need to make sure I heard you right, ‘cause if I hear you want me to fuckin’ choke you, and what you actually said was not that at all, it’s gonna be a mood ruiner, don’t you think?”

There's a beat before they both break out into laughter, shaking and guffawing in a way that Ryan treasures in these moments. It’s another one to tuck away, to fold into the spaces between his ribs, where Shane and Ryan are _Shane and Ryan_ like they used to be, before kissing, before frank nakedness, before finding out for sure just how much want it takes to step over lines drawn so long ago that neither one remembers why they were drawn in the first place. 

“Alright, that’s actually very wise,” Shane concedes, grunting as Ryan goes back to his work. Shane shifts, and when he’s turned enough that he can catch Ryan’s eye, he repeats himself. “I want you to choke me.”

Ryan grins, wide and proud, and gives Shane a definitive smack on the ass. “Now _that’s_ what I was talking about. Turn over, then.”

It’s a shuffle they’ve performed enough times now that they manage, in large part, to not lodge knees into thighs and elbows into ribs, and Shane lets Ryan press him down into the mattress, move his limbs into the most effective configuration, and sink into the hot heat of him. Shane groans, his hands grappling over Ryan’s back. Ryan lets his weight settle, leaning onto one elbow over Shane, brushing his other hand up Shane’s arm and over his shoulder with intent. 

Ryan waits patiently until Shane is staring up at him with purpose before he moves his hand so that his palm rests low over the wings of Shane’s collarbones.

“I’m gonna put my hand just here,” he starts, shifting up slowly, tentatively, watching for any sort of negative reaction that might flicker over Shane’s face. There aren’t any. In fact, Shane stills the moment Ryan finds his resting place, cradling the curve of his throat between thumb and index finger. “You hold onto my arm.”

Shane circles Ryan’s wrist with his fingers, eyes flicking down and back up again.

“Yeah, just like that. And if you need me to stop, you just tell me, or squeeze. Okay?” Ryan rocks hips hips for emphasis. When Shane doesn’t open his mouth to answer, Ryan stops, making to pull his hand away from Shane’s windpipe. 

Shane whines unexpectedly, catching Ryan off guard, and grips his wrist tighter to try to keep him from pulling away.

“Oh my god, buddy, I just need you to concentrate and answer me, but you’re incapable of doing that when I have my hand on your throat, turns out.”

Shane glares at him and immediately opens his mouth to gripe, “Don’t call me buddy when you’re—”

“Fucking you, I know. Just answer me.”

“Yeah, I understand.” 

“Say it back,” Ryan demands.

“What is this, quiz time?” 

“We’re literally dealing with the delicate balance of oxygen not reaching your big giant brain, so _yeah,_ Shane, it _is_ quiz time. Do you want me to choke you or not?”

Ryan gives into Shane’s tug and puts his hand back.

“Okay,” Shane croaks before sucking in a deep breath, and Ryan feels it under his palm. He shivers. “Squeeze if I want you to stop, got it.”

“Gonna start slow, big guy, don’t worry,” Ryan reassures before ducking down to press a hard kiss to Shane’s lips. When he pulls back again, he presses his hips more firmly into Shane’s and squeezes just a fraction with his hand. The groan that Shane lets out is guttural, and Ryan just barely resists the urge to rile him up with a shit-eating grin.

Instead, Ryan concentrates on applying a constant gentle pressure to the sides of Shane’s neck while pulling out and stroking back into him. Shane gives a full body shudder, and Ryan marvels at it; he wonders how long Shane has wanted this and not said it, to him or anyone else. _If_ he’s said it to anyone else. 

Once Shane starts shifting under him, Ryan takes it as a sign to kick it up a notch, and leans in a little closer, presses his hips in a little more purposefully, and squeezes just a hair tighter.

Shane’s back arches off the bed, body bowing tightly before slumping back down. 

“Holy shit,” Ryan whispers. Shane’s eyes are shiny and glazed, and as Ryan counts off the seconds in his head, he watches Shane get closer and closer to unfocused. “Who knew the secret to shutting you up was choking you little?”

Shane opens his mouth to retort, eyes sharpening, but Ryan takes away the opportunity. He snaps his hips with a bit more sharpness and watches Shane completely lose the ability to form sentences, watches it slip away from him like being pulled away from the shore by a riptide, helpless. 

Shane’s grip around his wrist loosens from unsure-because-this-is-new to I-trust-you-completely-please-do-whatever-you-want-to-me. Ryan watches Shane’s face the whole time, the way his cheeks flush and his mouth parts, panting short little breaths as Ryan fucks into him at a steady, measured pace.

“You fucking love this, oh my god.” Delight wells up in him at Shane’s clear enjoyment, and he grins then, leaning in to smear a kiss over Shane’s jaw. He pulls back; Shane’s pupils are blown wide, brown eyes clear. “How’s that, big guy?”

Shane nods. “Harder,” he rasps. 

“With my dick or with my hand? Help me to help you.”

Shane laughs, ragged, desperate. “Longer on the squeezing, harder on the fucking.”

It comes out so sure, so definitive, and so in contrast to his first uttered request to be choked.

“Okay.” Ryan adjusts himself, extending his arm so he’s upright, squeezing around Shane's neck a little harder. Shane’s eyes flutter closed as his back arches again. He’s gorgeous underneath the soft light of the bedroom lamp. 

Ryan takes care to count in his head as he snaps his hips forward, harder now, the sound of their skin meeting resonating in the room. He uses all his focus on Shane, wanting so badly to take care of him like he’s done for Ryan so many times. Shane’s grip on Ryan’s wrist falls completely away, and his hand settles in the spaces between Ryan’s ribs, clutching deep into Ryan’s flesh. Shane’s other hand drags down Ryan’s back, settles over his ass. Ryan moans, calls out Shane’s name. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” 

They’re sweat-slick, and Ryan’s breaths come in short pants as he fucks Shane, unrelenting as he rocks hard into him. Shane’s knees come up high, right against Ryan’s ribcage as the heels of Shane’s feet dig against the bottom of Ryan’s spine. 

He keeps careful watch of Shane’s face, his expressions. He groans when Shane clenches around him, and Ryan eases his grip for a moment, letting Shane breathe. 

“I’m close,” Shane whispers, his voice raw. It bleeds over Ryan’s flesh. “I’m so close.”

“You gotta hold onto me, in case—”

“You won’t, Ry, just—”

“Yeah, _yeah,_ okay.” Ryan’s gaze is so concentrated, and he keeps a close watch on Shane’s face while letting himself look down to watch Shane’s hand tug at himself as the push and pull of Ryan inside him catapults him to the edge. Ryan has never been more aware of the pressure he’s exerting, but they’re in a freefall now, Shane’s ability to tell him to stop, to slow down, to let go completely abandoned. 

Shane doesn’t want him to stop, he knows, and the situation rapidly devolves into the most basic audible elements of satisfaction—the harsh slap of skin on skin, the disjointed breaths, the unselfconscious keening. 

Ryan feels the moment Shane gives over to it, feels him tighten all over, feels the rolling waves as he comes on Ryan’s cock and under the press of his palm. With his head thrown back and his belly tight, Ryan can see the euphoria flood Shane’s entire body, hand moving almost frantically over himself as he shudders under Ryan, eyes closed tightly. 

Ryan holds on just long enough to push Shane through the other side, the space between them splattered and spent, before dipping his face into the curve of Shane’s shoulder and shaking apart with a muffled cry. 

Ryan lets his eyes fall closed and breathes, before he moves to roll off Shane’s body. But Shane’s hand is heavy at the bottom of his spine. 

“Just stay a second,” Shane croaks and Ryan settles against Shane, breathing hard against his collar. He presses hot, open mouthed kisses over Shane’s skin, licking the sweat from the hollow of Shane’s throat. 

“Are you okay?” Ryan asks, leaning up on an elbow just enough so he can look down at Shane and Shane nods. “Really?” 

“Yes, really,” Shane whispers, eyes falling shut. Ryan traces the line of Shane’s throat, over his reddened flesh. Shane takes his hand and tangles their fingers. 

“Hey,” Ryan whispers. Shane hums, eyes opening to look up at Ryan. “Love you.”

Shane’s smile is slow, soft, and Ryan kisses him, feels the way Shane returns the sentiment, tastes it on his tongue. 

-:-

They kiss slowly underneath the shower spray, Ryan’s soapy hands running over Shane’s chest, his stomach, a teasing grip over his half-hard dick. He’s meticulous, making sure the both of them are clean, even when Shane presses him up against steam-warmed shower tiles, Ryan hitching a leg over Shane’s hip, letting Shane bite marks into the column of his throat. 

Before it can escalate, Ryan reaches for the shower knob and shuts off the water. He gets out first, tying a towel around his waist and then holds one out for Shane, leaning up on his toes to kiss him again, laughing softly when Shane’s hair drips water over Ryan’s cheeks. 

“I’ll get started on the sheets. Make me something to eat?” Shane murmurs. 

“Toast—you’re getting toast.” 

Shane laughs, and walks away into the bedroom. Ryan dries himself off, and leaves the towel on the floor of the bathroom, even though he knows Shane will be annoyed by it in the morning. 

In the bedroom, he pulls on a pair of underwear as Shane wrestles fresh sheets onto the bed. Feeling a little sorry, Ryan holds one end so Shane can secure the edge, and barely dressed, they both make their way into the kitchen, where Shane picks up making them a snack, leaving Ryan to pop the caps off a couple of beers. 

“So, that sexy little number,” Ryan says after he takes a drink. “How long you been hanging onto that one?” 

Shane laughs as he sets a grilled cheese into a hot pan. The sound of it comes out wheeze-like and raw. Shane clears his throat, but his voice doesn’t recover. “A bit.” Shane doesn’t turn to look at him. 

“A bit?” Ryan echoes. He sets his drink on the counter and crosses the small distance between countertops, setting his hand low on Shane’s back. “Is there other stuff you want?” Ryan asks. 

Shane shrugs, looking at Ryan then. “I guess.” 

“I meant what I said, Shane. I’ll do anything you want, you just gotta tell me.” 

Shane clears his throat, eyeing Ryan carefully. “I think, maybe, I’d like to watch you—” 

“Do what?” Ryan asks. 

“—with someone else.” Shane quirks a smile. 

Ryan feels like the air in the room has been sucked out, and his lungs feel tight in his chest. He looks at Shane, really looks at him. His face is blank, emotions hidden behind some steel-forged barrier Ryan is only _just_ learning how to melt down. 

“It doesn’t have to be a thing, Ry. Chances are, there are going to be things I want, and things you want, and they won’t always line up.” 

Ryan clicks the rim of his beer bottle against his teeth, still a little stunned. “Explain it to me,” he says. 

Shane turns around and turns the stove off, busies himself serving sandwiches onto plates, passing one to Ryan. Ryan sets it down on the counter and lifts himself to sit on the edge, setting his plate on his lap as he crosses his ankles. Shane stands in front of him, leaning against the counter. 

“I don’t know—it’s just. Something I’d like to watch, I suppose. And then bring you home.” 

Ryan hums. “That doesn’t upset you? Thinking about me with other people?” 

Shane shrugs. “I mean, no? I—this isn’t—hmm.” Shane bites his sandwich and looks down at his plate. “It’s not meant to be, like, an open relationship. It’s just sometimes…” 

Ryan sits, somewhat patient, waiting for Shane to finish. He drinks. He eats. 

“I kinda want to make you beg for it a little.” 

“You mean beg to come?” Ryan clarifies. He frowns. 

“Yeah, but just a little. Not like whatever porn you’re thinking of that’s putting that expression on your face.” 

“Okay, so like how then?” 

“I don’t know yet. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

“So… I—what does that have to do with me and someone else, though?” 

“It’s two separate desires sated by a single incident.” Shane sucks in a breath. “I get to watch you with someone, and then bring you home and—yeah.” 

“Is this a possessive thing?” 

Shane purses his lips. “Possibly.” 

Ryan hums. “Well… when you figure it out, just—you know. Tell me. Because I’m not saying no. I was definitely into what we just did. And exploration is—it’s good. I’d like to, uh, you know. Figure out more stuff like this.” 

Shane smiles. “Alright, yeah. We can do some exploring. Some”—he barks out a sharp, unexpected laugh—“some kink spelunking, if you will.”

Ryan nearly chokes to death on a bread crust, and the spell is broken. 

Shane keeps laughing, pleased with himself, and Ryan drinks some of his beer to clear the burn in his throat. Shane’s laughter is contagious enough that Ryan’s shaking with it too. 

They finish their food, and when they do, Shane deposits their dirty dishes into the sink, and finds his way between Ryan’s knees, standing there. Ryan can see the mark he made on Shane’s neck, the redness that hasn’t quite faded. He sets gentle fingers on the back of Shane’s neck and tugs him down, just enough so Ryan can kiss him. 

Shane hums and Ryan smiles, effectively breaking the kiss. 

“Carry me to bed,” Ryan says. 

“What?” 

“Come on, carry me. I know you can.” 

“Why—why would you—why—” 

“Quit being dramatic,” Ryan says, pinching Shane’s side, which Shane moves away from, but Ryan tugs him back, turns him so Shane is facing away. Ryan circles Shane’s waist with his legs and wraps his arms around Shane’s neck. 

Despite the dramatics, Shane lifts him, with a minimal grunt, and Ryan kisses the back of Shane’s neck. 

“How is it,” Shane says, huffing a breath when he shifts Ryan in his grasp, gripping Ryan’s legs tightly. “How is it I’m the one that gets choked and railed, and _you_ get to be carried?” 

"I did it for you, at your request. This is payment,” Ryan reasons, grinning. 

"I thought this was quid pro quo." 

"Overruled."

**Author's Note:**

> please consider leaving your authors a comment in these trying times.
> 
> we both appreciate it.


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